Эрин Хантер - Crowfeather's Trial

That means the Clans won’t work together . . . which means the stoats might never be defeated. And that would leave WindClan vulnerable to whatever was being foretold in Kestrelflight’s vision.

Crowfeather’s neck fur prickled with frustration.

Does Onestar have bees in his brain?

Worse, his Clanmates were about to find out that he had gone behind their leader’s back. If anything could make me more unpopular, it would be that.

“One of your own warriors asked for a meeting with Jayfeather, to tell him—” Bramblestar began, only to have Onestar interrupt him.

“Of course, Bramblestar, you don’t understand this yet,” Onestar meowed, giving Bramblestar the kind of haughty look he might have given to a misbehaving apprentice, “because you’re a very new leader. But you need to learn that ordinary warriors don’t know everything. To get at the truth,” he continued with a pointed look at Crowfeather, “one must ask the Clan leader, and I’m telling you quite clearly that we don’t need help. Firestar would have understood that, but alas . . . he’s gone.”

Crowfeather winced at the mention of the previous ThunderClan leader. That’s hardly fair to Bramblestar. What cat could compare to Firestar?

Bramblestar’s amber eyes lit with anger, yet his voice was even as he replied. “If there are still stoats in the tunnels, they’ll eventually try to establish territory at our end. The threat must be contained for both our sakes. Arguing about it is just wasting time. There’s no reason our Clans can’t work together.”

Onestar’s mouth twisted in mockery. “You’re a young cat, but you’re already so hard of hearing! So I’ll say it again, as clearly as I can: WindClan deals with WindClan’s own problems. We don’t need ThunderClan’s meddling.”

“Meddling!” Lionblaze broke in, digging his claws into the ground. “I’ve heard you were pleased enough to have us meddle when Mudclaw led his rebellion.”

Bramblestar glared at his warrior. “Be quiet!” he snapped.

Crowfeather suddenly felt some cat’s gaze boring into him. He turned to see Jayfeather sitting at the edge of the group of cats, his blind blue eyes fixed on him. As he met that compelling stare, hardly able to believe that Jayfeather couldn’t see him, the ThunderClan medicine cat rose to his paws, swishing his tail angrily.

“If WindClan wants to deal with WindClan’s problems, fine,” he hissed. “We should leave now. We tried.”

“But it’s not that easy,” Bramblestar responded patiently. “If whatever is in the tunnels is a threat, it’s a threat to both Clans.” Turning to Onestar, he added, “You have the right to make decisions for your Clan, but no right to make decisions that will endanger mine .”

“That’s right!” Lionblaze agreed, his golden tabby fur beginning to bristle.

Crowfeather felt an anxious flutter in his belly at the sight of his son defending the cat who raised him. And I think they’re right, he mused. Does that make me a traitor to WindClan?

When he turned back toward the two Clan leaders, Bramblestar was meowing, “I insist that you work with me to deal with this threat.”

Briefly Crowfeather closed his eyes, feeling his pelt prickle with anxiety at Bramblestar’s obvious inexperience. If he’d had dealings with Onestar before, he would know that’s the worst thing to try. Onestar won’t let any cat force his paw.

Onestar’s calm air of superiority vanished entirely at Bramblestar’s words. His tabby fur bushed up until he looked twice his size, and he laid his ears flat against his head. “You can’t insist that I do anything ,” he snarled. “I feel sorry for ThunderClan, stuck with you as leader, when every cat knows the bad blood you’ve inherited.”

Crowfeather couldn’t repress a gasp. Onestar must have really lost control to let himself mention Bramblestar’s evil father, Tigerstar. Glancing at his Clanmates, he saw that they were gazing at their leader with wide, shocked eyes, as if they, too, couldn’t believe what they had just heard.

It’s not fair to Bramblestar, Crowfeather thought. He only came here to offer his help.

“And you’re bringing that up now?” Bramblestar asked, dangerously quiet.

Onestar let out a snort of contempt. “Your father killed Firestar in the Dark Forest. You must be so proud of him! If not for his savagery, you might never have become leader. Did you and Tigerstar make that plan together?”

Crowfeather caught his breath as he saw Bramblestar’s neck fur begin to rise, and he feared briefly that he might attack the WindClan leader. There was such fury burning in the depths of his amber eyes. His muscles rippled under his dark tabby pelt as he gathered himself for a leap. Just as Crowfeather braced himself to step between the two quarreling cats, Bramblestar made a massive effort to control himself. But the air still sang with tension as the two leaders glared at each other.

“We should just leave,” Jayfeather repeated. “This is going nowhere. We tried to help.”

Bramblestar relaxed slightly. “Very well. But hear this, Onestar,” he growled. “You’ve made it clear that our two Clans are not allies. Remember that when the threat in the tunnels turns out to be too much for you to handle on your own. Remember that we offered to help, and you turned us away and insulted us.”

Onestar let out his breath in a derisive huff. “Why would I remember such a weak, useless Clan?”

Bramblestar ignored him, and after a moment the ThunderClan group headed out of the camp, their anger and frustration obvious in every hair of their pelts. Onestar waved his tail to order Gorsetail and Furzepelt to escort them.

Once they were on their way, Onestar turned to Crowfeather, his eyes narrowing in a gaze of disapproval.

“Was that necessary?” Crowfeather asked. “ThunderClan won’t work with us now, and if that’s not bad enough, we’ve got a hostile relationship with them. Who knows what will happen?”

“Unfortunately, it was necessary.” Onestar spat out each word. “Because one of my warriors gave ThunderClan information they had no right to. Who would have thought that Breezepelt would turn out to be more trustworthy than his father? As for you, Crowfeather, you’re getting under my fur. I’m warning you, put one more paw out of line, and you’ll be in real trouble!”

He whipped around and stalked back into his den with a single lash of his tail. Crowfeather was left to watch the ThunderClan cats growing smaller as they crossed the camp and climbed the far slope, to vanish at last onto the moor. His heart twisted at the sight of his ThunderClan sons stalking off with their backs to him.

We couldn’t be more divided.

Harespring gave Crowfeather an apologetic glance. “It will be all right,” he meowed.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Crowfeather retorted. “Look, Harespring, you’re Onestar’s deputy. Can’t you make him see sense? Can’t you tell him that we’ll never get rid of the stoats if we don’t have ThunderClan’s help?”

“I can’t do that!” Harespring’s eyes stretched wide and his tail bushed out in shock. “I’m loyal to Onestar. It’s my duty to see that my Clan leader’s orders are carried out.”

Even if your Clan leader is being mouse-brained? Crowfeather knew that there was no point in speaking his thought out loud. This is what comes of making a Dark Forest cat deputy. Harespring was so desperate to prove his loyalty that he didn’t dare put a paw wrong. Instead of making Onestar think about his decisions—even if eventually he had to accept them—he was following where Onestar led without question.